


The Moment You Realize

by bratchet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blowjobs, Explicit Language, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, How Do I Tag, M/M, Nightmares/PTSD, Post-War, Smut, flirting/teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratchet/pseuds/bratchet
Summary: Students return to Hogwarts to complete their final year. There's tension and arguments, but what happens when one falls for the other?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	The Moment You Realize

“Harry! Harry, wake up! You have to get ready,” Ron exclaimed as he violently shook the boy.

“Ughhhh, bugger off Ron, I’m sleeping,” groaned Harry, waving the ginger boy away. 

Ron pushed Harry’s hand out of his face and immediately ripped the blanket off him, “Listen, mate, Hermione sent me up here to wake you up, but if you don’t get up right now, she’ll come barging in to lecture you about having to finish the remaining semester. You don’t want to hear that for the fifth time, do you?”

Harry sighed at the reasonable words as he opened his eyes and sat up straight. Ron acknowledged his success and had already run down the stairs to help Hermione with breakfast. The tired boy struggled to lift his heavy legs off the bed, still sitting there, dozing off occasionally, and contemplating whether or not he should just fall back asleep.

Ultimately, he decided to walk into the bathroom that was conveniently right across the hall and stared straight into the mirror. He had dark purplish-blue eyebags that rested just above his cheekbones, a constant reminder of the nightmares that began right after that day. Still hearing the shrill screams of his classmates, the protection charms from his teachers, and the defeated cries of all those who lost somebody, as if it only happened yesterday. He inhaled, closing his eyes, attempting to push those dark memories to the back of his mind.

When he unclenched his eyes, they shifted towards his bed-head, which emphasized his already tangled black hair, causing him to roll his eyes and not even attempt to fix it. Harry grabbed his wand and charmed his breath to a refreshing minty scent before he turned off the bathroom lights.

As Harry made his way down the stairs, he automatically inhaled the rich, buttery aroma of pumpkin pasties and the sweet, chocolatey cauldron cakes that permeated throughout the house.

“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione happily greeted as he trudged right past her to grab a cauldron cake. She looked especially attractive today, as it was the first day of their eighth year at Hogwarts. Although it was slightly warm outside, she wore a dark gray sweater over her neatly knotted tie and white-collared shirt. Her hair was in its natural loose brown curls, pinned to the back, making her look proper and book-ready. 

Harry glared at her upbeat attitude, seeing as she already put all their books in their respective bags. Yet, he could never actually dislike her, or Ron because they’ve all been through so much together. Each and every year at Hogwarts, something horrible occured, whether it was Tom Riddle’s diary or Harry’s name being unfortunately placed in the Goblet of Fire. They managed to stick together through the petty arguments and smile after it all ended because they felt fortunate enough to still have each other. 

Harry’s irritation gradually dissipated as Hermione grabbed her bag, eyeing both Harry and Ron to do the same, then walked out the front door. Professor McGonagall, the new headmistress, allowed the three Gryffindors to stay within the school grounds in order to accommodate their wants to stay together after the Battle. 

Truthfully, Harry knew that Ron and Hermione just wanted to make sure that he was okay after everything that had happened. However, just the idea of being able to see familiar faces, walk the common halls, and eat the delicious food made Harry feel an endearing nostalgia that he knew he needed. 

They walked along the mulchy trail towards the entrance of their school, and immediately spotted a girl with short black hair, bangs parted to the side. They couldn’t see her face clearly, but they could tell it was someone in the Slytherin house because she flaunted her green and silver tie in her hand. Harry noticed someone leisurely by her side, and kept a curious eye on the two, as they looked old enough to be in his grade. When they turned left towards the Great Hall, his forehead scrunched as he recognized that pale, blonde hair. 

It seemed Ron caught sight of him too when he asked, “Is that Malfoy?” his head shifting from Harry to Hermione before bitterly continuing, “He must be bloody mental thinking he could waltz into Hogwarts like nothing ever happened.” 

Harry didn’t respond as he entered the Great Hall since he was being happily welcomed by students and teachers. He smiled awkwardly, and shook their hands in hopes that they would stop congratulating him on his defeat of Voldemort several months ago. 

His eyes shifted from the Second Years to the Third Years, who were all pulling and tugging at his sleeves to get his autograph and honestly, he was already exhausted enough to take another nap. 

After finally being left alone, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Ron, waiting for the Sorting Hat to sort the incoming First Years into their houses. The apprehension that flew across each of their faces made him understandably grin as he remembered what it felt like to sit on that stool, to be the center of attention, and to literally hear the hat announce his inner capabilities. He watched their innocent faces light up whenever the hat chose, and thought to himself, “ _ It’s been so long. ” _

As the last first year took their seat, McGonagall stood up to the podium, and spoke, “Welcome all to another year at Hogwarts. Before we start the feast, I must address a few reminders." She cleared her throat and began, “All returning students and first years must note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden. All students must be in their respective dormitories by the 10pm curfew. All students must remain on the school grounds unless specific circumstances say otherwise.” She paused, then firmly stated. “I needn’t remind you all that I expect  _ absolute _ respect between the houses. I will not tolerate  _ any _ intent to harm or intimidate other students. Additionally, as many of you may have noticed, there are some older students returning here, who plan to finish their final year in peace. I hope that everyone will take careful consideration before bothering them about nonsensical trifles. And finally, I wish a hardworking and harmonious year to all.” She raised her hand with a delighted smile, “Let the feast begin.”

-

The next day, Draco, Pansy, and Blaise exited their house common room in order to get to their first lesson of the day, Charms. When they entered the classroom, Professor Flitwick had already motioned them to sit wherever they wanted, and of course, they decided to sit in the back. 

They knew they wouldn’t be welcomed with joyful smiles because of a few reasons. Pansy, for one, tried to offer Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, while Draco was tasked to murder their Headmaster at the time, Albus Dumbledore. And although Blaise didn’t directly do anything, he stood by Malfoy’s side until the end, and by association, was disliked by most.

Draco surveyed the room as it slowly began filling with students that he recognized from his year. He grimaced when he saw the trio walking in.  _ “Of course. The gallant Saviour and his sidekicks.” _ The three were laughing at each other until they caught sight of Malfoy. Their grins disappeared, having to take the only three seats available directly in front of him. 

The tense atmosphere only heightened when Ron kept glancing behind himself to glower at Draco. The blonde boy clearly noticed it, but continued scribbling on his own notepad in order to avoid trouble. However, when he tapped Pansy to borrow some of her ink, Ron immediately twisted his neck, harshly whispering, “Be quiet.”

Draco, being fed up by the intense animosity, struck back. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You know bloody well what my problem is,” Ron answered, slamming his quill on the desk.

Before Draco could reply, Harry pulled Ron’s shoulder forward, “Leave it alone, Ron.” 

The black-haired boy’s eyes shifted to the back, and set a folded piece of parchment onto Draco’s desk. Hesitantly, Draco picked it up and read it in his head:

_ After class ends, meet me in the Viaduct Courtyard. _

Quickly scanning the paper a second time, he looked up to see that Potter already turned back around. He sat pensively and gently crinkled the corners of the message, then creased it shut. 

Draco twisted the quill between his thumb and his index finger, pondering the years before the Battle, before the bloodshed, before everything went to shit. 

He remembered offering his friendship to Harry and getting rejected. He remembered joining the Quidditch team just so he could see Harry gracefully fly his broom. He remembered their encounter after Harry became a Triwizard champion; how he gloated in his misfortune when he really wanted to pull him into a concerned embrace, gently stroking his hair, and telling him that everything would be all right. 

But that’s the problem, everything wasn’t all right. After that tournament, he couldn’t see Harry as more than a foe on the opposing side. He wasn’t allowed to. Everything had changed because Voldemort was back. And without a choice, Draco became a Death Eater, fearfully following the orders of the Dark Lord. Ever since then, he couldn’t even look at Harry without feeling like he betrayed him. He desperately wanted to trash the words commanding him to find the boy. 

Pansy nudged Draco’s shoulder, informing him that the bell had already rung. Accordingly, he closed his book, dropping it into his bag along with his quill. His grey eyes shifted towards Potter, who was already walking towards the courtyard, and he reluctantly exited the classroom, dreading the conversation he was about to have.

-

Draco entered the courtyard and searched for Harry. He spotted the boy, sitting on the faded pale bench, and approached him with the imitation of confident steps.

He cleared his throat, "Hello, Potter." 

Harry looked up, pushed his falling glasses firmly up on the bridge of his nose, and stood flat on the ground, "Malfoy." 

Draco awkwardly stood there staring, feeling his skin heat up in the consuming silence, waiting for Harry to speak. In the end, he asked with a raised eyebrow, “So, is there a reason you wanted to meet?”

Harry nodded as if he were just reminded, licked his dry lips, and then replied. "Why are you here?" 

Draco mockingly smirked, “Well you asked for me, didn’t you?”

“No. I mean why are you here at Hogwarts?” Harry coldly said.

Draco’s face slightly winced at the harshness of those words. His jaw tightened, and he defensively responded, "Why not?"

"You know why I'm asking. Clearly not everyone here is fond of your presence, Malfoy," Harry answered.

Draco let out a breath of disbelief at the smaller boy, "Well I don’t really care what others think, Potter,” strongly emphasizing his name, as if he were spitting it out. “Besides, I didn't exactly  _ want  _ to be here, but I have to be. I need to complete my NEWTs so I can become a Potioneer."

Harry's eyes raised, "Oh, I see." He bit the inside of his cheek, and couldn't help but wonder if he'd been unfair. Not knowing what else to say, he glanced at some younger students curiously observing their conversation, probably hoping for a fight to break out.

Draco’s eyes followed the other’s, and also noticed the annoyingly interested Ravenclaw girls with their blue and bronze scarves resting around their necks. 

Hating the attention they’ve been attracting, Draco attempted to finish this ‘polite’ chat, and reassured, “Don’t worry Potter, I’ll be on my best behaviour.” Then continued with a quick quirk of his sarcastic smile, “So you and your little Gryffindor buddies can fuck off my back.”

Harry abruptly faced the blonde, allowing their eyes to meet, and scoffed, “We aren’t following you, Malfoy. If you hadn’t noticed, we have to share every class together, and I’d rather not have to pull apart you and Ron every single time.” 

Draco quickly remarked, fist clenching his bag strap, "I don’t intend on picking quarrels with him. I couldn’t care less about that red-head. But if he even tries to argue with me, I  _ will _ argue back.” 

Harry exhaled with his eyes closed, irritated at the immaturity of the situation. When he opened them, he spoke, “Look, I don’t want us to be on the wrong side of everything because of the past. Obviously, that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten it, but I don’t want to let it ruin this last year for us. I’ve told Ron to leave you alone, and even though he’s quite bitter about you, he agreed to just ignore you until graduation.”

Draco sarcastically responded with his right hand to his heart, “Oh, wow, my saviour.” He briefly paused when he saw Harry’s impatience, then dropped his hand and added, “Thanks.” 

Harry only nodded, and Draco’s lips pulled in to form a thin line at the, once again, uncomfortable silence. He concluded, “Alright then, if that's all you needed to say, then I guess we're done here." Draco turned his back, and walked straight into the school, thinking to himself, "Bloody Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco swiftly strolled away from him, not even waiting for his reply. As he watched the blonde walk away in his well-fitted all black suit, he was reminded of their sixth year. Draco’s lean body barely sufficed the waistband of those incredibly large trousers. He recalled seeing the smooth fabric, maybe it was silk, glide against his thin legs whenever he moved. He recalled Draco hastily escaping him when he had confronted Katie Bell about the hexed necklace. The anxiety that rested on his face. The shakiness of his breath and his hands. He shut his eyes in distaste, recalling the moment he had almost killed Draco with the Sectumsempra spell he found in a book.

The thin boy finally turned out of his sight, prompting Harry to sit back down on the bench, jittering his leg as he pondered the few words they exchanged. 

-

It was finally Halloween at Hogwarts. The Whomping Willow had just twisted and shed the leaves peacefully resting on its branches. Hagrid had maintained a pumpkin patch with dozens of large pumpkins, some to decorate the school with carved-in horrendous expressions, some to display as large lanterns at the school’s festivities, and some to be created into wonderful treats during the school’s annual Halloween feast. 

The Great Hall had live bats flying from the ceiling to the walls. There were candled pumpkins laying on the ground, several feet apart, and the ceiling was enchanted to look like the eeriest, darkest sky with a large full moon. 

The ghosts of each house floated around, attempting to spook every student that entered. 

Peeves, fond of mischief, often hid and whenever a student was in their most vulnerable state, he would scream in their ears causing them to jump and drop whatever they held in their hands. 

Everyone typically enjoyed the feast, as it was deliciously packed with candied-apples, carrot cakes, large lollipops, and pumpkin juice. 

However, to some, it meant more than just dressing up, scaring others, and eating a ton of sweets. Harry, for one, had always particularly been attracted to that day, as it was the day his parents sacrificed their lives for him. He wouldn’t necessarily say he was fond of that day, but rather he accepted it for it was, and still managed to enjoy it with Ron and Hermione. 

This Halloween, however, Ron and Hermione were off somewhere else. Harry didn’t know where they went off to, but he just assumed they were lying on the grass, cuddling under the beautiful stars. He frowned at the thought of his two best friends snogging, and entered the Great Hall all by his lonesome. He hoped everyone would be too distracted by the festivities and food that he could sneak past them and snag a candied apple.

As he took a bite out of his treat, he scanned the room, looking for anyone he might know. His eyes rested on Draco Malfoy, who was sitting with Blaise, popping pieces of caramelized popcorn into his mouth. Harry thought to himself if it was a good idea to approach them and sit as if they were friends. Eventually, he made up his mind and began walking towards the pair.

Draco and Blaise were laughing at how Pansy was desperately throwing herself all over some Ravenclaw boy that was a grade below. Harry had never seen Draco smile so gently. Thinking to himself, he’s never seen Blaise smile either, but this was different. 

Harry spoke up, “Hey.”

The two Slytherins faced Harry before Draco responded, “Hello, Potter.” Blaise, however, didn’t respond as he was generally reserved and wasn’t up for making new friends.

“May I sit with you guys?” Harry asked boldly, before quickly adding, “Everywhere else is full.”

Draco nodded at Harry, and watched as he sat himself down directly in front of him. His eyes shifted across Harry’s face to the candied apple multiple times, watching him sink his teeth into the extremely sticky treat. He inwardly grinned at how innocent the boy looked, smiling after every crunch, savoring every bite, like a little kid licking a lollipop. 

Draco rested his elbow on the table, with his hand in his hair, and faced towards Pansy, but repeatedly shifted his eyes towards Potter, trying to capture everything he could. He saw that Harry was wearing a black sweater with orange slashes through it. He noted that it was slightly too long for his arms and it wasn’t well-fitted on his body. He spotted the barely exposed scar on his forehead, and the same round spectacles he’d been wearing since they were first years. Draco, feeling he’d been staring long enough, licked his dry lips before turning back to Blaise and continuing their conversation on what they thought Pansy would do next. 

Harry felt Draco watching him, but he didn’t think much of it. He probably just found it unusual to see Potter sitting in front of him. 

When he felt the grey eyes shift away, Harry examined the boy while he was speaking to Blaise, looking at his clothes, his hair, and the manner of which he was eating. Draco was still wearing a black dress shirt, but this time, without a tie. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the faint red Dark Mark on the inner part of his left forearm. Harry’s eyes then shifted to the freely let down, light-colored hair, and wondered how one could be born with that color. It looked so unnatural, so abnormal, so different that it was almost extraordinary. 

When Draco picked a piece of popcorn from the bag, and brought it to his mouth, Harry watched as he flicked it effortlessly in. He couldn’t help but notice the prominent ring sitting on Draco’s finger. He squinted his eyes slightly, trying to make out what animal was on it. Finally realizing what it was, he thought to himself, “Ah, of course, a snake.” 

For a brief moment, Draco glanced towards Harry, but then fully shifted his focus when he saw that he was staring. His eyebrow jumped up, “Potter, is there something on my face?” 

Harry didn’t even notice he’d been lazily staring at Draco, and felt his cheeks redden a bit. He shook his head back into reality, “Ah, I’m sorry?”

“I asked if there was something on my face,” Draco repeated, rather troubled.

“Oh, um, no,” was all Harry managed to mutter. His eyes shot back down to his candied-apple and took a reluctant bite out of it.

Draco slightly grinned at Harry’s reaction, finding it rather cute that he just caught him staring. But why was he staring?

Harry scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward as the two weren’t facing him, or including him in their chatter. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he did want to speak to them. He sat, thinking of any possible conversation starter, but, in the end, he scrapped all efforts. 

His throat felt a bit scratchy, probably from not talking all evening. But this is what he wanted, wasn’t it? He wanted peace and quiet from all the students noisily asking for a picture with him. He wanted to get away from everyone treating him like he was some sort of war hero. But as he continued sitting in silence, he grew gradually distressed by the fact that Draco had been one of the few people who didn’t care about him.

Harry swallowed before speaking to the both of them, “It’s getting late.” The two shot their heads towards him, and then he concluded, “I’ll get going now. Good night.” He stood up from his seat, and tensely walked out the Great Hall. He looked at the hand holding the unfinished candied-apple and vanished it with the quick flick of his wand.

Draco watched Harry exit the Halloween feast, and with a worried expression on his face, wondered why he abruptly got up and left. He wanted to get up to follow the boy, to check on him, to make sure he was okay. Ultimately, he felt like he couldn’t, and looked down at the table before turning back to Blaise, who was still watching Pansy spin around with the Ravenclaw boy. He feigned a smile, trying hard to forget about Harry.

-

It’s been four months since their last interaction. 

Harry has been busy dealing with Hermione and Ron’s relationship problems. On his left, he tried to be patient with Ron, whenever he spoke of how Hermione kept reminding him to study for his NEWTs, to do his homework, and to wake up for class. The ginger was absolutely losing it because he would’ve done all of those things without her constantly bugging him about it. On his right, he tried to be understanding with Hermione, whenever she spoke of how Ron was incredibly dense and oblivious at times. She was beginning to feel frustrated because of his laziness and his tendency to do nothing about it.

Draco, on the other hand, had no worries about dealing with relationship issues. Blaise and Pansy were technically his only friends in Hogwarts, which meant he was mostly drama free. He spent most of his days avoiding large crowds that seemed to grow uncontrollably noisy as time went on. Sometimes he was asked by younger students if he really did kill their previous headmaster, and he would just smile at their ignorance and walk away. Sometimes he would attend Duelling Club meetings, but only to watch all the kids learn how to defend themselves properly. He enjoyed those meetings particularly because of two reasons. One, it was amusing to watch the first years confidently take on the fourth years. Two, well, Harry Potter was the teacher.

The two never had the opportunity to speak to each other after Halloween, and while Draco wasn’t necessarily looking for Harry, he felt like Harry was avoiding him. They shared all their classes, which meant they would have interacted at least once. Whether one of their quills dropped, one of them bumped into each other, or one needed to borrow a piece of parchment. But those things never happened. Mainly because Harry  _ was _ avoiding Draco. Every possible situation where he would have to interact with the blonde was quickly evaded, as if he knew he’d be there.

It was right after Valentine’s Day when the next Quidditch match took place. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were competing for the chance to play against Gryffindor, who was currently first. Draco never cared enough to go to the games, but Harry normally attended the matches to support his House. However, since they weren’t playing, he decided to roam the halls. 

Harry passed by the Quidditch Pitch and noticed that they’d already started their game. As he continued walking, he made his way into the green-houses. Automatically hit with a sense of nostalgia, he remembered when they learned about Mandrakes, specifically when he had to rip them out of the dirt. He shook his head and silently muttered, “Those nasty little buggers.”

When he turned the corner, he spotted someone sneakily picking at one of the plants. Harry approached quietly, hiding behind the potted herbs until he accidentally knocked one onto the ground. He breathed in sharply, and then tried to crawl away from the disturbed scene. 

By the time he felt he was safe, someone spoke, causing him to jump and face the other direction. “What are you doing here, Potter?” 

It was Draco bloody Malfoy.

Harry’s jaw anxiously dropped as he thought of how to explain himself, but no words were coming out. He gently squeezed the flap of skin between his index finger and his thumb, feeling his cheeks burn up.

“Well?” Draco questioned.

“I wasn’t following you, if that’s what you thought. Um, I was just wandering the halls and I saw someone in here,” defended Harry. 

Draco lifted his left eyebrow, “Then why were you hiding?”

Harry mentally slapped himself in the face as he realized hiding only made it more suspicious. He exhaled a response, “Uh, I- uh, good point,” he paused, frantically waving his hands at Draco, “But honestly, I wasn’t following you. I didn’t even know it was you.”

The black-haired boy scratched the back of his ear, looking at Draco’s silent, unconvinced expression. “So, why are you here, Malfoy?” Harry asked, awkwardly repeating the question.

“I’m picking some mints and parts of the Flutterby bush so I can create a potion,” he straightforwardly answered.

Harry was a bit curious now, “What kind of potion?”

Draco hesitated, clenching the bag he kept the herbs in, “Uh, it’s more a cologne, I guess.”

“What?” was all Harry could chuckle out, now staring at the bag. Before he allowed Draco to respond, he asked another question, “Why the Flutterby, then?”   
  


Those words made Draco roll his eyes playfully, “Didn’t you ever pay attention during Herbology class? It produces flowers that adapt their scent to attract the unwary. Something that others wouldn't find repulsive, and would actually be drawn to it.”

Harry snarkily asked, "Ah I see, trying to impress someone?"

Draco smirked at the question, "Why? Jealous?"

Harry playfully nodded, "Oh yeah, of course. Mhm." 

This caused Draco to slowly nod, and with an amused grin, "Hm. Funny."

Harry stood silently smiling, head tilted up at the boy who did not answer his question. He felt his heart drop as he thought of who Draco could possibly want to notice him.

Draco placed the strap of his bag over his shoulder, already turning to leave. Noticing that the other wasn’t really moving, he asked, “Potter, are you just going to stand there all day?” 

Harry looked into his grey eyes, hurriedly patting the dirt off his pants, and thoughtlessly followed Malfoy, who consequently turned his head to face the smaller boy.

“Coming with me then?” Draco paused and smirked, “I’m beginning to think you’ve missed me.” Oh god, he wished he hadn’t said that, but it was already out so he might as well own it. He kept calm, waiting for Harry to respond. His eyes flitting nervously between the two green eyes.

“Of course I have,” Harry jokingly played along.

The blonde was not expecting that, and breathed out a small laugh, “Shove off, you arse.” 

Draco glanced behind himself, and quickly explained that he had to go make his potion before classes the next day. He said goodbye to Harry, and spun towards the exit of the greenhouse. 

Draco chuckled at himself, unable to keep his lips from quirking up. He’s sure that that brief moment of flirting was the source of his contentment.

Harry grinned at their lighthearted exchange. He swore he saw Malfoy gently smile as well, and that was enough to make Harry’s heart beat fast, as he turned to walk away. Maybe he really did miss him. He ran his hand through his hair and practically skipped back to his dormitory, constantly replaying their conversation in his head, and smiling like a goofy idiot.

-

Harry plopped onto his bed and pushed his face into his pillow. He giddily squeezed it, and imagined what it would feel like if the pillow were Draco. He breathed in, picturing the boy from head to toe:

His platinum blonde hair gently resting just above his shoulders, as Harry runs his hands through. His silver eyes that could pierce through Harry, watching him, examining him, taking him. His barely rosen cheeks that redden in the intense heat. His parted heart-shaped lips that let out pretty smiles, vulgar words, and beautiful sounds of pleasure. 

His neck, which is so pale that any attempt to mark it as Harry's own would be far too easy, full of little bruises. His exposed collarbone as the green tie had been loosened and his white collared shirt had its top buttons ripped off in a feverish frenzy. His now-wrinkled cotton shirt, slightly pulled up to expose his lean abdomen. Harry grinned at how he visualized the normally pristine, elegant blonde Pureblood into a tousled, desperate Draco Malfoy. 

Harry felt himself heating up, as all of his blood went south. His hips pushed into the bed, slowly rubbing his hard length against the smooth fabric of his pants and his bedsheets. He groaned lightly, but realized it wasn't enough. 

He moved his hand down, and gently stroked. He inhaled at the blissful friction that his hands created, and pushed further into his fist. As he thought about Draco's hands instead of his own, small gasps escaped his mouth, filling the deafeningly silent room. 

He imagined Draco’s slender fingers teasingly rubbing the head of Harry's cock, letting the hot precum drip to the shaft. He shuddered at the image of Draco spreading the precum between his fingers. Harry shut his eyes in ecstasy, and stroked faster. With his bed sheets tightly between his fingers, he came with a muffled moan. 

He opened his eyes, and let out a small sigh of relief, as if he'd been holding in his unknown needs for months. 

When he suddenly remembered he does not live alone, his eyes shot towards Ron's bed, and thankfully, he was still sound asleep. Realizing he was safe, he did a quick cleaning spell on his sticky hands. 

When he finally sat up, he got off the bed, and walked towards the window. He tiredly gazed at the night sky, deeply inhaling a sigh of regret for his dirty desires that he knew the blonde did not reciprocate.

Harry thought back to the last seven years, reminiscing all of their petty arguments, slightly grinning at Draco childishly mentioning his father. 

He thought back to Halloween; the first time he really got to look at Draco, to look at his calm expression that smiled in the midst of friendship.

He thought back to this afternoon, when he saw Draco cutting pieces of the Flutterby bush to make something so innocent such as cologne. 

He thought back to their conversation; how Draco didn't immediately tell Harry to fuck off, how he didn't threaten to expose him as a stalker, and how they talked as if they were in a blooming friendship. 

He rested his chin on his bent knee, and realized he couldn't stop thinking about him, and how he’d changed. 

His eyes shifted towards the grassy field of the Quidditch Pitch, lowering a bit in sadness. Harry felt a twinge of guilt for even fantasizing about Draco. Draco Malfoy, the boy who created chaos in his sixth year. He knew he wouldn’t forgive him for allowing all those Death Eaters to enter the school grounds. He just couldn’t. He shook his head, mentally lecturing Draco for not going to Dumbledore earlier, and asking for help. 

His mind jumped from his headmaster’s death to post-war. When he had defeated Voldemort, it was a brief moment of joy because that night, he woke up crying over the screams of his schoolmates. Every time he shut his eyes, he could picture the dead bodies of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks. This caused him to stay awake for days at a time until he couldn’t keep his eyes from falling. 

But even if Draco was the root of his problem, thinking about him also brought a soothing sense of respect. He knew the boy barely had a choice given the circumstances. He recalled Bellatrix and the half-breeds residing in his home. He must’ve been scared the whole time, and he was just trying to do whatever he could to stay alive. The fact that Draco came out of it, looking like he hadn’t been affected by the whole situation, made Harry slightly admire his bravery. He didn’t know how the blonde was feeling, he never even thought to ask, but rather basically told him to get off the school grounds. 

That night, Harry was exhausted from all the unwanted memories rushing through his mind. He fell asleep, knowing three things:

  1. He did miss him.



  1. He did want to talk to him. 



  1. He did like him. 



-

The NEWTs were approaching drastically fast, causing anxious stress between all the returning eighth years. Hermione, Ron, and Harry went to the library to gather all the needed books. They planned to study after classes ended at 3 o’clock. Ron and Harry barely looked conscious after their last class, and groaned at the idea of studying for another five hours. Even Hermione was slightly overwhelmed at the relentless assignments their professors ruthlessly assigned. 

When they found a table with three empty seats, Hermione immediately dropped her bag and went to search for Arithmancy books. Ron, on the other hand, laid down the moment she went out of sight, and closed his eyes. Harry stared at the ginger boy, knowing Ron would be deeply scolded by Hermione when she returned. 

Harry decided to get up and wander the multiple shelves of informative books. He passed by the neatly organized sections. Charms. Defence Against the Dark Arts. Arithmancy; he spotted his curly-haired friend rummaging through the highest shelf. Care of Magical Creatures. Potions; he paused, retreating his steps and slightly exposing his eyes to who he saw.

Draco was seen wandering the sections. He was searching for a particular one about Everlasting Elixirs, the type of potion with the effect to never run out. As Draco was pulling out a worn out book, Harry peeked his head from the corner and hesitantly approached him. 

“You’ve always liked potions,” Harry spoke up, leaning on the bookshelf.

Draco’s hand hovered the books as he turned to answer Harry, “Yes, I have… What do you want, Potter?”

Harry shook his head, “Nothing, I just noticed you scanning through some books and thought I’d make conversation.”

“Make conversation with me?” he questioned in disbelief, and cynically squinted his eyes, “What are you up to?”

Once again, Harry answered, “Nothing. Just wanted to talk to you.”

"Well I don't want to talk to  _ you _ , so I guess that's all. Goodbye," he turned his back, walking further down the aisle. Draco had been extremely stressed lately due to the overflow of assignments and the fact that the NEWTs were right around the corner. He silently hoped that Harry would leave him alone for now. 

Harry quickly followed after, his face bumping into Draco’s back, who suddenly halted and turned towards the smaller boy. The former paused for a second, biting the inside of his cheek. Harry didn’t know if he should be honest or just walk away. 

Decidedly, he straightforwardly admitted, “Look, you’re the only one who talks to me like I don’t bloody matter, and… I don't know, I thought we'd chat for a bit?" He internally cringed.

Dracos eyebrows raised, inwardly grimacing at how Harry didn’t know the truth of how Draco felt about him. He spoke, "Go find someone else to chat with. I'm busy." He turned back to the shelves.

Harry didn’t take no for an answer, and stood there, in Dracos personal bubble, cherishing the slender fingers as they passed through every book until they found the one they'd been looking for. He stared at the dark grey sweater that fitted well on Draco’s body and silently grinned, imagining his arms wrapped tightly around the boy.

Draco felt the itch of the green eyes on the back of his neck, blushing at how persistent the boy was. He turned his head, and in the most demanding voice he could feign, "Why are you still standing there? Go off to Weasley or something." 

"No."

Eyes shifting to the shabby sky-blue tee that Harry was wearing, down to his oddly fit blue jeans, Draco exasperatedly replied, "I mean it. Leave me alone, scarhead.”

Harry grinned at the mention of that nickname because he hadn’t heard it in over 7 years. 

Draco scrunched his eyebrows at that reaction and realized maybe this boy really does need help. He faced the black haired boy, holding the books loosely in his arms, and leaned in with a low voice, "Listen here Potter, I don't know what kind of desperate kink this is, but I will not be a part of it." 

Draco knew he wanted Harry. He knew he wanted him to stay. But not like this. Not right now.

Harry slightly frowned at how firm the blonde sounded, "Okay Malfoy, whatever you say," and defeatedly walked away with his hands in his trouser pockets.

-

As Draco was returning to where he had been studying, he couldn’t help but think to himself the peculiar conversation he just had with Potter. What? Just because Draco acts like he doesn’t give a rat’s arse about him, he’s suddenly all interested? No. He wouldn’t let himself get sucked deeper into a never-ending cycle of liking Harry and then stopping whenever the latter wanted. He wouldn’t let himself give in to the temptation of being Harry’s friend just for the sake of momentarily satisfying his own wants. He sat down in his seat, slightly frustrated at the whole situation, and forced open one of the many books he collected from the shelves. 

Draco was studying for about an hour before someone rudely sat down in front of him. His eyes shifted towards the now occupied seat and consequently glared at the person. He said with a sigh, “What now, Potter?”

“Can I sit here for awhile? Hermione is lecturing Ron about Charms and I really wouldn’t like being next,” Harry replied, avoiding Draco’s cold eyes.

Draco’s eyes shifted to the heated argument behind Harry, and allowed him to stay.

Harry had brought his own books to study, and promptly opened it in front of himself. Every flipped page attracted the attention of the blonde. He had trouble focusing on his own notes and frequently glanced at the boy who looked so unfazed as he lazily skimmed each page for a few seconds. 

Finally, as if Draco was fed up by the bored expression on the other’s face, he spoke, “You can’t possibly be retaining anything like that.” 

Harry adjusted his glasses, “I can’t focus. Every time I look at the words, it just becomes a blur.”

“What are you even reading?” Draco asked.

“Something about Jobberknolls,” but even Harry wasn’t too sure, as his lips pouted at the book.

Malfoy inwardly grinned at how cute that was. Though he slightly pitied the boy as he saw his eyes barely managing to stay open. “You look like you’re about to fall off your chair. Maybe you should just stop now.”

“But the exams are in two weeks. I can’t not study,” Harry dejectedly said, firmly holding the edges.

Draco, a bit concerned now, reached out to close Harry’s book before asking, “Why do you look so tired?”

Harry’s grip loosened, “I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” he said, still not facing the other. He allowed Draco to take the book from his hand.

Draco wasn’t sure if he should question further, but firmly asked, “Why not?”

The black-haired boy’s shoulders dropped as he finally looked up, “Nightmares,” he paused, “About the Battle.”

When Draco silently encouraged Harry to continue, he sighed and explained how he still felt and heard everything as if it was still happening. How he could still feel the guilt from the deaths of those who protected him. How he could still hear Voldemort himself, spew the Killing Curse directly at him. How he could still smell the burnt rubble and smoky air that clogged his throat. Everything felt too real, and it made Harry grimace.

Draco was still gazing at him until his eyes fell onto the closed book, “I understand. I still have nightmares about those times too. Voldemort… he threatened to kill anyone who defied him, which meant if I didn’t follow him, he would kill me and my parents. I felt unsafe in my own home.” Draco looked up, straight into Harry’s eyes, “I’m sorry about everything that happened because I was too scared to ask for help. I just didn’t want to risk it.”

Harry examined the apologetic expression of Malfoy. He wanted to forgive him, but deep down he really knew he couldn’t. Not yet. All he could manage was a sympathetic smile, and then, “I guess it was shitty for both of us.”

Draco nodded, then continued, “You should really get some rest then.”

The drowsy boy gave a small appreciative sigh, “Worried about me?”

“Obviously,” Draco answered seriously, staring directly at the other.

Harry was slightly taken aback. Had he heard him correctly? He scratched the back of his head as a shade of pink spread across his face. “Um,” he cleared his throat, “I guess I’ll head back to the dormitory then.” Harry pushed out his chair, and turned his back.

And with that, Draco watched the boy shyly walk away from him once again. Though it felt a little different this time because he and Harry had an intimate conversation. Draco never really talked about what troubled him. He never talked about his nightmares. He certainly never talked to anyone about his feelings. Draco grinned when he realized that he was the one Harry confided in. He packed his books, knowing he wouldn’t be studying any longer, and exited the library.

-

For the next two weeks, Draco went to the library to study. Like always, he sat near the back window that gave him the most light exposure. And like always, Harry managed to find him to talk about the most random things. Sometimes it was about Ron and Hermione’s incessant need to vent to him. Sometimes, it would be about his nightmares. Most times, however, it was just about how his day went, and how he felt. 

It was Friday afternoon when Draco was sitting alone at his usual seat in the library. He constantly eyed the entrance, half-expecting Harry to barge through and plop right in front of himself. 

Hours went by, and the blonde was beginning to feel disappointed. Although he never admitted it, he enjoyed their little routine chats in the library as it got him to loosen up after endless hours of classes and studying. The clock struck 7pm and Draco sighed, packing his books into the leather bag. 

As he stood up, he saw the black-haired boy running directly at him. “Malfoy!” he said, breathlessly.

“I was just about to leave, Potter,” Draco said, rubbing the blue strap on his shoulder.

Harry tilted his head up, “But we didn’t get to talk today.”

Draco stared at the boy. He spotted the loose black shirt he wore, slightly exposing his perky pink nipples every time he bent down to catch his breath. Draco swiftly shifted his eyes away, blushing. He finally answered, “It’s getting late. Maybe another time.”

Harry looked disheartened as his eyes fell to his hands. He muttered, “Please?”

The blonde inhaled, unable to resist the adorable boy right in front of him. He exhaled, “Very well, but only for an hour.”

Harry beamed up, staring directly at the other’s eyes, “That’s fine.”

The library was pretty much empty except for a single Hufflepuff sitting at the opposite corner. Harry and Draco took their regular seat, and then began, “So, why were you running here as if you were escaping Filch and his bloody cat?”

Harry barely let him finish his question before he began rambling on about how he had to comfort Ron about the upcoming exams, and then he had to help Hermione find something about Protean Charms, which he briefly explained is a charm that links several objects together, and then McGonagall called him to host a very sudden Duelling Club meet, which took two hours apparently, and then he ran into Filch who annoyingly began questioning why he was out this late. By the time he managed to escape his interrogation, it was already 6:45 and so he basically ran across the whole school just to get here before Malfoy left.

“So that’s why I was late, but I made it,” Harry said smiling as if he just accomplished a harder task than battling Voldemort.

Draco was slightly speechless at how fast the boy spoke, but gently chuckled, “Amazing, so you really did have to outrun Filch.”

“Yeah, it was bloody difficult if I say so myself, but I wanted to speak to you, so it’s alright.” Harry shrugged, now avoiding the other’s eyes.

This caused a small grin to rise on the blonde’s face. He sarcastically responded, “I didn’t realize how important I was to you, Potter.”

“Well, I do enjoy our chats and you’re not bad to talk to about most things,” the smaller boy reasoned, his cheeks slowly burning up. 

He focused on Draco’s hands, flitting between his fingers and his ring. He wanted to hold them so badly. He wanted to slide his fingers in between and feel the heat of their touch. He wanted those fingers to caress his face, and hold it firmly in place. He wanted those fingers to gently brush against his mouth before he leaned in to kiss the taller boy. Harry swallowed nervously.

Draco saw the distressed Potter in front of him, and then admitted, “I enjoy our chats too.”

Harry’s head shot up, surprised, and smiled, “Draco Malfoy. Are you saying I haven’t actually been bothering you all this time?”

“That’s not quite what I’m saying, but yes, I don’t mind taking breaks during my studies to listen to your awfully tedious day,” Draco answered with a tug on his lips.

Harry’s jaw dropped, and he tittered, “I’m beginning to think you fancy my company, Malfoy.”

“Perhaps I do.”

Harry’s smile faded, and the tilt of his head straightened. He bit his lip, and then hesitantly revealed, “Perhaps I fancy you.”

Draco’s eyebrows quirked up. Had Harry Potter just said he liked him? Without a word, Draco stood up and brought a chair beside Harry. He looked directly into the green eyes, “Say it again.”

Harry scrunched his forehead, “W-what?”

“Say it again,” Draco repeated, and leaned in closer. 

Harry flinched, eyes falling on Draco’s lips. “Um. Perhaps I fancy you… “ he awkwardly said.

Draco smiled at the tense boy, and with no warning, pulled Harry’s lips into a tender kiss. As he moved his lips on Harry’s, the latter loosened his shoulders, and began to do the same. Harry’s eyes shut as the kisses became slower and more passionate. 

The blonde rested his hand in Harry’s hair, gently keeping him steady, as he lustfully pressed deeper. Harry felt his heart beating faster as he moved his hand to rest on Draco’s bent arm before he jerked out. The black-haired boy stared at the grey eyes, breathing heavily. 

It’s not like he’s never kissed anyone before, but this was different from the ones he and Ginny shared. Draco was more firm, like he knew exactly what he wanted. His head felt fuzzy as he inhaled the minty citrus smell that seemed to radiate out of Draco. When he saw the blonde's erotic expression, Harry felt his cock grow hard. 

Draco bit his lips, eyes devouring the disheveled boy. He loved how pink his cheeks were, and how swollen and red his lips were. 

Draco leaned back in, more hungrily than before. His teeth grazed Harry's lips, tugging at it roughly. He ruffled through Harry's hair, forcefully pulling him closer. His hands fell down to Harry's shirt, lifting it slightly to expose his abdomen. Harry gasped at the sudden cold fingers touching his skin, and tried to stop Draco's hand from fondling his chest. However, his attempt was cut short when Draco held his wrist to the side.

The blonde shifted his lips to Harry's neck, sucking on the exposed skin. When he squeezed the sensitive pink buds, Harry moaned, exciting Draco more. Unable to control himself, Draco bit down on the crook of his neck, causing Harry to flinch in sensual pain. 

Harry let Draco do whatever he wanted. He let himself get touched, kissed, and bitten. He didn't even stop himself from unzipping his own pants, releasing the tension pressing on his cock. Draco smirked when he noticed how desperate he made Harry. He gave small kisses on Harry’s neck and lips before pushing back the chair and kneeling in front of him.

Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of Malfoy pulling down his pants, then his boxers. Draco’s slender fingers slowly touched the hard length in front of him before gripping it tightly in his hands. Harry let out another small moan as the hand moved up and down. He was so aroused under the blonde’s manipulation and began pushing his hips into the slow tugs. 

Seeing Potter so horny, and vulnerable made Draco's mouth water. He brought his face closer, silently admiring the hardness. Draco licked his lips and engulfed it in one fell swoop, causing Harry to thrust his cock forward. It hit the back of his throat and he gagged. 

Draco bobbed his head up and down Harry’s shaft, licking up all the pre-cum that oozed out of it. He teased the tip with his tongue, moistening the throbbing cock. Harry shuddered under the warmth and squeezed his thighs over Draco’s head. His hands yanked at the blonde hair, aching for more. Harry was panting heavily, gasping for air, until he came hard in Draco’s mouth. Draco jolted at the salty taste of Harry’s cum, but swallowed it.

The blonde slowly retracted, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. He held the gaze of the satisfied green eyes as he stood up. 

Harry's eyes fell on the uncomfortable bulge on Draco's trousers, and got on his knees. He teasingly unzipped the trousers, making sure not to go too fast. 

As he pulled Draco's length out, he bit his bottom lip nervously. He has never actually done this before. Harry placed his hands hesitantly on Draco's thighs before slowly wrapping his mouth over the tip. 

This sparked an immediate reaction from the blonde, causing Harry to widen his lips, allowing more into his mouth. As Harry moved back and forth, his tongue slobbered the base of the cock, making it slippery and wet. 

Draco's hands grabbed the black hair, roughly tugging for more. When he pulled forward, the smaller boy jumped back, coughing violently. 

Harry immediately went back in, cramming more into his mouth. Draco muffled his needy moans and began ramming into the back of Harry's throat. 

As Draco continued fucking Harry's face, his breath quickened.  Harry looked up into the intense gaze of steely grey. Their contact filled Harry with immense pleasure, like he wanted nothing more than to be on his knees bringing Draco to the brink with just his tongue. Maybe he'll be rewarded...

With one final lustful grunt, Draco pulled out of Harry's mouth. He coated Harry's face with a thick stream of cum, causing the boy to blink rapidly. Harry used his middle finger to bring some of the smooth white cum onto the tip of his tongue. Draco breathed heavily as his eyes bore into the other's, and watched the boy lick his lips like he just finished a snack. 

"Get up," Draco said.

Harry obeyed and stood face to face with Draco. Draco smashed his lips into Harry's. Their teeth clashed hard. Their tongues slid past each other. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach as he wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, pulling him closer. 

When Draco finally withdrew from the kiss, his eyes shifted all over the messily stained face, and he smirked in content. He had made Harry Potter like this. Desperate. Lustful. Wanting. 

Draco bent down to pull his trousers up, swiftly tucking his dark button shirt underneath. He cleared his throat. Harry exhaled an exhausted breath before doing the same. He pulled up his boxers and black trousers, now slightly stained by their recent activity. 

Draco wiped the stains off Harry's face with the sleeve of his cotton shirt. After Harry fixed himself up, he looked into Draco’s silver eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek. Draco held out his hand, to which Harry readily took, the embarrassing heat in his chest gradually dissipating as the blonde shyly twisted their hands so that his fingers intertwined with the smaller boy's. Draco’s cheeks were still a little red when he spoke, “Potter,” he paused, “Would you, um, like to go out sometime?”

Harry’s lips pulled into a grin, and he nodded, “Yes, Malfoy, I’d like that.” 

He clutched Draco’s hands tighter, causing the latter to smile. The two were still feeling a little lightheaded from what they’d just done. Harry leaned into Draco’s shoulder, lightly chuckling at everything that just happened. Draco caressed the black hair with his free hand, resting his cheek on the surprisingly smooth curls. 

It was now 8pm and time for the boys to return to their dormitories. Despite having to separate on the first floor, the pair said their temporary goodbyes with joyous smiles. Knowing that they would meet again tomorrow in the same place they dirtily marked as their own was enough for them to leave each other momentarily. That night, both of them slept with the most blissful dreams that they’d had in months.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
